Mission: McGee
by Smackalicious
Summary: Yes, this was a mission indeed. The mission to get Timothy McGee to sleep with her. [McGiva. TOTAL CRACK!FIC. See author's notes for further details. I can only wish I owned Naked!Ziva.]


_Author's Note: TOTAL CRACK!FIC. Inspired by both a review I left on a story on OzGeek's story for the McGiva challenge & a conversation I had with my friend Teresa. Oh, this was so much fun to write. You have no idea. If you know my writing style at all when it comes to silliness, you will totally get this. I hope everyone can enjoy it, though._

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"O three hundred. I'm now entering the premises of Timothy McGee's apartment. Subject appears to be . . . sleeping. Alone. Good. I'm going in."

Ziva pressed a button, was greeted with a loud squeal of objection, and quickly attempted to silence the wayward walkie-talkie. She wasn't talking to anyone – she just thought walkie-talkies looked bad ass and wanted to take advantage of the new ones she had just bought.

She snuck around the corner of the living room (don't even ask how she broke in – this is Ziva we're talking about, remember?), and as she reached the bedroom, and therefore the loud snores of McGee, a car passed outside. She instinctively ducked down, eager to escape any headlight beams that may enter the apartment and sight her. Never mind that McGee was sleeping and the person in the car wouldn't be paying attention, anyway, and how were they supposed to know that Ziva was intruding in the apartment? Ziva was just being careful, as she always was when on a mission.

Yes, this was a mission indeed. The mission to get Timothy McGee to sleep with her.

Ever since she rated his butt against Tony's, the urge to throw him down and have her way with him had not left her mind. She needed to get him into bed, and the easiest way to make sure that happened was to catch him when he was already IN bed.

Every detail of this mission had been planned out months in advance, from the sneaking in to exactly what she'd say to her invisible cohort on the other end of the walkie-talkie. And now that the event was here, well, Ziva could almost squeal with anticipation.

As the thought entered her mind, Ziva let out a tiny high-pitched squeal, then clamped a hand over her mouth. Oh no. Hopefully McGee didn't . . .

"Is there someone there?" McGee's voice came groggily from his bedroom, and Ziva's knees nearly turned to jelly at the sound. All her hard work, everything she had worked for, the long hours of planning, and it all came down to this.

She heard the bed squeak as McGee shifted to his feet, and before he could reach the doorway, he fell to the floor in a slump.

Ziva stood back and surveyed her work, nodding in approval. That would work. He'd be out for maybe 15 minutes, and when he woke up and saw what Ziva had planned . . . well, there would be no way he wouldn't comply.

Ziva stuck her chin on the base of her hand, contemplating her next move. She mentally went over her plan, remembered what she was to do next, and stuck a finger up in realization. "Time for you to go back to bed, Mr. McGee," Ziva said, more to herself than to McGee, because McGee was, you know, passed out.

She hefted his unconscious frame up and into the bed, where she rolled him over and proceeded to straddle him, fulfilling one of her fantasies already – oh, wait, she'd already accomplished that back with the AI vehicle. Mmm, yes, good memories.

She shook her head free of the thought and looked down at her victim. He looked so sweet, laying there with his mouth hanging open. She caressed the side of his face, allowing her hand to trail down his neck and to his shirt – yes, McGee wore a shirt to sleep. Maybe he didn't on a regular basis, but for the convenience of her plan, he was. Definitely a coincidence.

Ziva moved her hands across his chest, until she reached the buttons in the middle of his shirt. She stopped and allowed a devious grin to snake across her face, then with a flourish of her skilled hands, ripped the shirt from his prone body, buttons flying through the room.

Ziva let out a howl of delight at the mess she was making. If there was one thing Ziva loved, it was being allowed to make a mess on a mission – she generally preferred blood, but she wasn't about to make McGee bleed, and she figured the mess they'd be cleaning up after she finished here would be sufficient to make her happy.

As she was imagining the result of their tryst, McGee started to stir beneath her. "Shit!" she muttered, having gotten distracted from her plan and therefore fallen behind. She quickly removed herself from his body – not something she was entirely willing to do, but needed to for the sake of the mission – and began to remove her own clothes. If this mission were to be successful, she'd need to convince McGee to have sex with her, and it would only be easier if she were already naked when he saw her.

Who could resist a naked Ziva? Not me, I know that. Uh, I mean, damnit . . . McGee's awake!

McGee raised his head and pried his eyes open. "What's going on?" he asked, more to the room in general, since he wasn't aware that it was Ziva in bed next to him.

"This is what's going on," Ziva purred, jumping atop him and flashing her breasts in his face.

"Holy - !" McGee exclaimed, more surprised by the sudden attack than the naked body straddling him, but then adjusted to the sight and was even more shocked. "Boobs . . . I mean, Ziva?! What the hell are you doing here? And why are you naked? And why are you in bed with me? And why am _I_ naked?"

Ziva shook her head, caressing his face again. "So many questions and only one answer: We are going to have sex."

The look of shock on McGee's face remained. "We are? Uh, I was not aware of this." He attempted to slide upwards, and as he did so, realized he had reacted inadvertantly to the situation and slid back down beneath the covers, where his _own _cover wouldn't be blown, so to speak.

Ziva chuckled, her breasts jiggling with the motion, and McGee attempted to avert his eyes, but failed. They were boobs, after all! Not too bad, either. Small, but he could definitely handle that. Just the right amount to hold . . .

Suddenly, McGee was aware of the sheet covering his legs being slowly slid down, and he diverted his eyes from Ziva's chest long enough to grab at it. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? You think you can just come in here and take off my shirt and I'll have sex with you?"

"Well," Ziva said, thinking a moment, "yes. Now off with the blanket!"

"Ziva!" McGee cried, and she looked up guiltily. "I'm not having sex with you!"

She threw up her hands, frustrated. "Why not? Am I not attractive enough for you? Are my breasts not as heaving as you prefer? Or is it just that you'd rather have sex in a coffin? Because I'm sure Abby would let me borrow one if that's what you're into . . ."

"No!" McGee stopped her mad ramble. "Ziva, you realize we work together." She nodded, as if to say, duh. "And having sex with me really isn't going to make working together any easier."

She let out a defeated sigh, then straightened again, her breasts perky. "And why not? I would think having an intimate relationship with a co-worker would make us work together quite well. And it also gives us something to do on a stakeout." She smirked, happy with her response.

"I-I . . ." McGee sputtered, at a complete loss for words.

"You what, McGee?" Ziva asked. He shook his head. "That's right. Just give in, and I won't have to resort to Rufies."

"Rufies?!" McGee squeaked.

Ziva let out another exasperated sigh. "Yes, Rufies. How else did you think I would get you to comply? If there's one thing I've learned from being in Mossad, it's that you must always think of all strategies when it comes to your missions."

"I'm your mission?!"

She nodded. "Indeed, McGee. Heh, that rhymed. Anyway, you would not believe the planning that had to go into this mission, and to fail now . . . Well, let's just say I am not prepared for that. It would mean rewriting the entire aftermath of this encounter."

McGee narrowed his eyebrows at her. He was less shocked now and more curious. "You wrote up a plan for all this?" She nodded. "And what would happen afterwards?" She nodded again. McGee nodded, as well. "Wow. That's pretty impressive. So, what happens once I have sex with you?"

Ziva shrugged. "I continue to use you as my own personal sex slave. Is that suitable for you?"

McGee almost bristled at the idea, but then realized this was Ziva offering, and his head shot up. "It most certainly is! Let's get it on!"

Ziva squealed, then clapped her hands together excitedly. McGee sat up, wrapped his arms around her frame, and lowered her to the bed, preparing to enter her, when Ziva stopped him.

"Wait!" She scrambled to a sitting position, then ran from the room and into the hallway. Once she was there, she searched for her bag and in it, found what she was looking for. She picked up the lone walkie-talkie, pressed the ON button, and giggled into it, "Mission accomplished."

THE END!!!


End file.
